


In Close Proximity

by nerdy_geek_501



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Road Trips, Roommates, Secret Crush, Sexual Tension, Smut, Summer Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8757304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdy_geek_501/pseuds/nerdy_geek_501
Summary: An old-school friends-to-lovers Fitzsimmons fic, set during their Academy and Sci-Ops days. Chapters 1 and 2 can be read on their own (rating: T) if you aren’t interested in the smut.





	1. Finals

Jemma Simmons fought to suppress a yawn. She was lying on her front on her extra-long twin bed in her Academy dorm room, chin resting on the pages of her Quantum Mechanics textbook. Sprawled on his side beside her was her best friend and lab partner Leo Fitz, absent-mindedly paging through his own textbook.

Simmons stretched out her arms and legs, her outstretched fist just grazing the wall above Fitz. “Oi, watch where you’re aiming that! Almost gave me a black eye.” 

“Sorry,” Simmons yawned again. “I’m just having trouble staying awake.” She threw him a sleepy smile and glanced at her alarm clock – 11:07 pm. She had always been the early sleeper of the two, turning in early while Fitz could stay up all night playing video games or watching YouTube.

When Simmons smiled at him, all dopey and content, Fitz felt a wave of affection. Her wavy hair was mussed and plastered against her cheek. “How about we stop for the night? Or maybe take a break and watch some TV?”

In normal circumstances, Simmons would have argued with him. After all, they hadn’t yet reviewed the latest journal articles and the exam was less than 36 hours away! Fitz must have seen the worry in her eyes because he said, “Vaughn isn’t going to test us on research that wasn’t covered in the lectures. You know every topic in that book backwards and forwards, and would have aced the exam if we had written it this morning.” Simmons wavered. After all, they weren’t becoming the Academy’s youngest graduates by not pushing themselves hard.

Fitz sighed. “How about this: if you watch one episode of Doctor Who with me, I will wake up early with you tomorrow to download some journal articles and discuss them, okay? We still have a whole day to revise.”

Simmons looked up at Fitz. He was looking far cuter than he had any right to look, a slightly teasing smile playing on his lips and sandy curls all in disarray. His plain white t-shirt stretched across his well-formed shoulders (complain as she might about the mandatory “field operations” course taking up a spot in their schedule, she couldn’t object to what it had done for her best friend’s physique), and she was suddenly felt an urge to just curl up against him and let sleep overcome her.

After all, this was their last final; they had already secured positions at Sci-Ops for the fall; and Fitz was probably right about the additional material not being on the exam. She knew that if she asked, he would brew them strong cups of tea and stay up all night reading physics journals with her; and she loved him for that. But for once she didn’t want to ask that of him. “All right, just one episode then. And I’m setting the alarm for 8 am.”

“Yes!” Fitz looked like a child on Christmas morning as he hopped over her to queue up the episode on his laptop before settling back in. The theme song had barely started to play before Simmons’ eyelids closed.

When Simmons woke up the next morning, she was snuggled up against something warm and firm. It took her a second to realise that she was leaning back against Fitz and his arm was wrapped around her waist; he must have pulled the covers up over them after she had fallen asleep. She squinted at the alarm clock – 6:30 am. _I can let myself enjoy this for another hour and a half_ , she thought before snuggling back against him and drifting back to sleep.

* * *

Simmons and Fitz read all of the journal articles the next day, aced their Quantum Mechanics exam as expected, and ended up graduating first and second in their class, respectively.

As they posed for a selfie in their graduation caps and gowns, Simmons exuberant and Fitz slightly sheepish, Simmons couldn’t help thinking how lucky she was that they had been paired together in Dr. Hall’s Chemical Kinetics lab the previous year. She couldn’t imagine making it through the Academy without having her best friend beside her, the whole damn time.


	2. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flirty summer road trip.

“Ooof,” Fitz lowered one of Simmons’ boxes into the backseat of his car, “is that it?”

“Yeah, that’s the last of the boxes. One last double-check that we didn’t forget anything in the dorms and we’re off,” Simmons smiled.

Given that they had two months between graduation and the start of their new jobs at Sci-Ops, Simmons had decided that they should drive cross-country in Fitz’s beat-up old Volvo. It would save them the cost of hiring a moving company, she had reasoned, plus it would be fun. Fitz, never one to deny Simmons anything, had agreed; it wasn’t as if he had any better plans for the summer.

From the moment that he pulled up outside her dorm, Simmons had seemed different, in a good way. Dressed in a floral print sundress instead of her usual blazer and slacks, and waving at him frenetically from the sidewalk, Simmons radiated an optimism that he had never seen in their two years at the Academy.

Throughout the trip, she was light-hearted and goofy in a way that was entirely new to Fitz. No less brilliant, driven, or witty than the workaholic genius that he knew; but somehow lighter and more joyful. She sang along to Top 40 songs on the radio, feet propped up on the dashboard. She bought junk food and trashy gossip magazines from gas stations, and made him pose for silly selfies in front of famous landmarks. It was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders – without the pressure and expectations of being the Academy’s youngest cadets, they were finally free to act like what they were – two 18-year-old best friends on a cross-country road trip. Away from the eyes of their peers and professors, there was no need to always have the right answer or to dress professionally lest they not be taken seriously based on their age.

Speaking of dress, it turned out that Simmons had a whole wardrobe that Fitz had never seen. Which made sense, he supposed – they had taken classes throughout the past summer in order to complete their coursework in two years, and Simmons was fastidious about always appearing professional in front of their fellow cadets. “They already resent us for being eight years younger than them, Fitz. Why give them any more ammunition?” she would argue. She was right, of course (she was always right).

To Fitz, Simmons’ summertime wardrobe was a revelation. Unabashed and carefree, she spent the trip wearing spaghetti-strap sundresses, tank tops, cut-off jean shorts, and flared miniskirts. She wore the same pair of rubber flip-flops every day (“When we’re back in a lab we won’t be able to wear sandals, Fitz”). A few times a day he would catch himself staring at how her cleavage looked in her tank top, her toned thighs stretched out on the car seat beside him, or how her skirt flounced over her backside as she walked. Each time, he would catch himself before Simmons looked up and tear his eyes away lest she notice him staring. He felt like a creep for ogling his best friend.

After all, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t always been beautiful – he had taken that for granted as long as he had known her. He just hadn’t paid as much attention before because there was always a lab or project or exam she was worrying about, and she was always fully buttoned up. But to be surrounded by Simmons all day, with her new intoxicating smile and all of her pale creamy skin, was making it hard not to notice that his best friend was also gorgeous.

Unfortunately, Fitz wasn’t the only person noticing. Despite her looks, Simmons had never gotten much attention from the opposite sex at the Academy – Fitz chalked it up to her intimidating intelligence and the fact that the other cadets didn’t want to seem like perverts for creeping on the only teenage girl at the school. But out on the road, no one knew that Simmons had two PhDs or could synthesize deadly neurotoxins in her sleep – in their eyes, she was just pretty brunette with a cute body and a warm smile.

More than once, Fitz had to glare down tables of college guys who would blatantly check Simmons out as she walked past, or steer her away from some would-be Romeo working up the nerve to talk to her. Once, when they were stopped for gas, he saw three sketchy dudes eyeing Simmons up as she browsed magazines in the station. Rushing inside, he came up behind her, placed his hands on her bare arms, and rested his chin on her shoulder. He felt a rush of warmth as Simmons leaned her body back against his.

“So, which trashy magazine will it be this time? People or Hello!?” he asked. Simmons already had the latest Scientific American tucked under one arm, but apparently couldn’t decide on a second magazine.

“I don’t know Fitz – are you more interested in learning why Ryan Reynolds is the sexiest man alive or about how Kate Middleton will receive Princess Diana’s engagement ring?” she asked with a smirk. Fitz groaned, but it was all for show. He had to admit that he enjoyed having snarky debates about the stories in those magazines at least as much as Simmons enjoyed reading them aloud to him.

“Let’s get them both,” he decided, “my treat.”

“Awwww Fitz, really?”

“Yes, really.” He wrapped one arm around her and steered her towards the cash register, away from the dudes at the back, as he got out his wallet to pay.

“You’re the sweetest” she smiled, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek as they waited in line. Fitz blushed sheepishly. He had to admit that it felt good to have Simmons’ lips against his cheek, just like it felt good to have her body pressed against him. He felt a perverse sort of satisfaction at being able to scare off other guys by acting as if he and Simmons were together, even though they weren’t.  


* * *

That night in their motel room, Simmons played the latest Katy Perry album from her iPod as she was getting ready for bed. She bounced along to “California Girls” as she brushed her teeth and washed her face.

When she came out of the bathroom, Fitz was lounging on one of the double beds reading on his laptop. Simmons took a moment to drink him in. She had always thought he was handsome, but this summer he was something else as well. Simmons didn’t know if it was the stubble that had grown in, how nicely toned his torso looked in his white t-shirts, or the relaxed confidence that he exuded; but all of the sudden, Fitz was _sexy_. Earlier that day, with his breath in her ear and her leaning up against his warm body, she had felt a twinge deep in her core. She shivered at the memory. Fitz seemed to be getting more comfortable showing her physical affection in public, and she hoped that that was a sign of things to come.

Fitz looked up from his laptop and smiled at her. Just at that moment, the iPod started playing _the_ song – the song of their summer, which Simmons had sung in the car at least a hundred times as it played on the radio. She couldn’t stop herself from singing along.

“You think I’m pretty, without any make-up on. You think I’m funny, when I get the punchline wrong. I know you get me, so I let my walls come down – down.”

Fitz smiled indulgently. He secretly loved it when Simmons got all dance-y and silly, though he tried to hide it.

As the song reached the last chorus, Simmons bounced over to him and grabbed his hands, pulling him up. “Come on, Fitz! We both know that you know the words.” She held his hands and sung to him, shaking her hips and shoulders to the beat.

_Let’s go all the way tonight. No regrets, just love._  
_We can dance until we die._  
_You and I, we’ll be young forever._

_You make me feel like I’m living a teenage dream, the way you turn me on._  
_I can’t sleep, let’s run away and don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back._  
_My heart stops when you look at me._  
_Just one touch, now baby I believe this is real._  
_So take a chance and don’t ever look back, don’t ever look back._

Fitz’s heart felt like it was going to burst. She was so incredibly happy and her words cut straight into his soul. How could he deny her anything? He grinned and joined in:

_I’mma get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans; be your teenage dream tonight._  
_Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans; be your teenage dream tonight._

They danced and sang the rest of the song together, finally collapsing on their respective beds laughing their heads off.

As Simmons snuggled into the covers, she gazed at Fitz across the night table. There was nowhere that she would rather be than on this crazy road trip with her best friend in the world. The fact that she was falling for him was just something she’d have to figure out.


	3. Moving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An IKEA trip and sexual frustration.

“That should do it,” Fitz huffed, hammering the last nail into the back of his dresser. “I think we’re ready to stand this one up.” Simmons grabbed one corner of the dresser, Fitz grabbed the opposite one, and together they gently tilted it until it was standing against the wall in the den of their new flat.

They were converting the den into Fitz’s new bedroom, using some screens they had bought from IKEA to separate it from the living room. A two-bedroom apartment in the city wasn’t really an option on their budget, Matt, their real estate agent, had explained apologetically. But with his help, they were able to find a spacious one-bedroom plus den in a three-storey walk-up that met their needs.

Fitz, ever the gentleman, had offered to take the den and let Simmons have the bedroom. He was a little worried about not having any private space of his own, what with anyone in the living room or kitchen being able to hear everything in his “bedroom”, but he didn’t really have a choice. All of the bachelor flats Matt had shown them were less than a quarter the size of this one and more than half the cost. They were saving money by rooming together; and Simmons had seemed so thrilled at the idea of being roommates that he couldn’t find it in his heart to say no.

Fitz was both entranced and agonized by the thought of spending all of his waking moments surrounded by Jemma: her presence, her voice, her smile, her scent. How was he supposed to deal with his growing attraction to his best friend when she was never more than one room away?

To make matters worse, she continued to wear her summer clothing once they arrived in the city. Right now, for instance, she had her eyes closed and was stretched across Fitz’s new bed wearing nothing but a tight white tank top and cut-off jean shorts. She was sweaty from the exertion of a full day of building furniture, and a strand of wavy hair was stuck to her face. She was magnificent. Fitz couldn’t help himself from admiring the sheen of sweat covering her neck and chest, how the perspiration had rendered her top partially see-through, or how it rode up her midriff to expose a tantalizing strip of skin.

Simmons, for her part, was enjoying the familiarity of Fitz’s old comforter from the Academy, which smelled just like him: solder, pencil shavings, and spicy aftershave. She was both exhausted and relieved: the last three days had been a whirlwind, but they were finally moved into their new place.

She smiled as she thought over the past few days. On their first full day in the city, they had met Matt, the real estate agent arranged by SHIELD. He was perfectly kind and accommodating, and had done his best to find them apartments within their price range. Unfortunately, their budget didn’t go nearly as far in the city as it did on campus, and Simmons had felt her optimism waning each time that Matt showed them another tiny condo in a huge glass skyscraper or basement apartment with uneven floors and mold on the walls. The only thing that had made it better was Fitz by her side, squeezing her hand whenever she felt disappointed and cracking silly jokes about the places they were viewing.

“Look, Simmons,” he had said in one of the condos, “you can open the fridge from the living room! We won’t even have to get up to grab a beer while watching telly!”

“Oh wow, Simmons, look at those biological samples!” he said, pointing to some mold on the walls, “it’s like a living space and your lab built into one!” His jokes were stupid and she told him so, but they kept her laughing as opposed to crying as they viewed yet another disappointing basement apartment.

The two of them had spent yesterday at IKEA picking out furniture. Although initially unsure how to even furnish a flat, they ended up having a lot of fun. They weaved in and out of the model rooms, pretending to eat dinner in a cramped apartment at a fold-out table, lounged on the sofas, and opened every drawer in Simmons’ dream kitchen. Fitz insisted on testing the structural integrity of every bookcase to make sure they could stand up under the weight of Simmons’ collection; and he opened and closed every sofa bed to select the one with the most convenient design. Together, they bounced onto each mattress in the bedroom section to find the most comfortable one, laughing the whole time.

Simmons hoped she could be forgiven for pretending (just a little bit) that they were a couple picking out furniture for their new home, instead of just roommates. And could she really be faulted for pretending to not be able to reach the IKEA packages on the higher shelves, just because she liked the way Fitz’s back muscles rippled as he lowered them onto the cart?

Other people always assumed they were together. The sweet old lady working the cash register at IKEA had winked and told them to “enjoy their new bedroom set” – Simmons had simply blushed and thanked her, pulling Fitz away as he sputtered. Fitz kept doing boyfriend-ish things, like surprising her with a lingonberry sundae while she waited in line, or holding her hand while they browsed. Even Matt, their real estate agent, had done a double-take at their intertwined fingers after Fitz had explained that they needed a second bedroom. Sometimes it seemed like the only person who didn’t see them as a couple was Fitz.

Simmons sighed. She was having a hard time keeping her crush under control as it was; why did Fitz have to be so goddamn sexy?

She found it sexy when he smirked at her suggestion that they pay for the IKEA furniture assembly service (“Seriously, Simmons, the two of us are capable of building _autonomous forensic drones_ on our own; you think we can’t handle building bookshelves that come with cartoon diagram instructions?”). She found it sexy how seamlessly they had worked together all day, their rhythm from the lab translating smoothly to furniture assembly. She found it sexy watching his deft fingers twirling an Allen key to tighten a bolt, fine muscles in his forearms moving under his skin. She found it sexy watching him hammer dowels into the ends of pieces of wood. And she _definitely_ found it sexy when he lifted up the hem of his white t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow, revealing his slim but nicely toned torso underneath. Man, she had it bad.

Turning her head to the side and opening her eyes to look at Fitz, she got the distinct impression that she had caught him unawares. He quickly dragged his eyes up to her face, an intense look in his eyes that she had never seen there before. His pupils were dark and dilated, his breathing heavy, and his face flushed. Was he … checking her out? What was she supposed to do?

_Here goes nothing …_

Putting on her best seductive smile (she hoped) and licking her lips, she whispered, 

“So, Fitz, what would you like to do now?”

_I would like to climb into bed, kiss you senseless, and grind you into my bed until you moan my name._

Fitz shook the thought from his head. Jemma was his _best friend_ , and she had done nothing to deserve such a disrespectful response other than being hot as hell.

Fitz pulled himself together and replied, “You seem tired; how about you rest for a bit and I’ll clean up all of the cardboard boxes and throw out the waste?”

He thought that Simmons looked crestfallen for a second before her usual perky optimism came back. “I know, I can take a bubble bath! I’m really hot and sticky, and I’ve been dying to try that deep soaker tub ever since we moved in.”

Fitz gulped. “Right … a bubble bath … sounds great. I’ll just get started clearing this up then.” He picked several large pieces of cardboard off of the floor, holding them in front of him as he made his way to the door.

When Fitz returned from depositing all of the cardboard boxes in the recycling bin behind their building, he could hear the Jacuzzi jets on in the bathroom. The scent of Jemma’s body wash, lavender and vanilla, permeated the entire apartment. The thought of Jemma lying in the tub, body slick with suds and bubbles covering her naughty bits, already had him half-hard.

Rushing into the relative privacy of the den, Fitz sat on his bed. What was he supposed to do? He would normally sneak off to the bathroom for a wank, but that obviously wasn’t an option. He glanced down at his bed. Jemma probably wouldn’t be able to hear anything over the Jacuzzi jets … and he could probably finish before she was done in the bathroom … _screw it_. Fitz flipped back his covers and laid back in bed.

Taking himself in hand, he thought about how she had looked earlier, laid out before him in his bed. Jesus, his pillows still smelled like her shampoo. Stroking himself back and forth, he thought about how he would have liked to lick that strip of skin between her tank top and her shorts, how her sweat would be salty on his tongue. In his mind, he pulled up the hem of her top inch by inch, kissing each patch of exposed skin as he went. Once he finally pulled it over her arms and threw it across the room, he licked her cleavage right between her perky, milky white breasts and then licked his way up to her left nipple. He took her nipple into his mouth and suckled her gently, making her moan his name and run her hands through his hair. He then paid similar attentions to her right breast.

His cock was leaking pre-cum at this point as his hand sped up. Fitz could still hear the Jacuzzi jets going, so he still had time … but he’d better finish quickly.

In his mind, he trailed kisses down Jemma’s stomach before reaching the waistband of her shorts. He popped open the button and unzipped the fly. As he pulled down her shorts, he saw wetness glistening at the bottom of her triangle of hair. He could smell her from here. Taking a deep breath, he blew cool air across her lips. Jemma shivered. He ran his tongue up her slit, tasting her juices … and just like that, Fitz came hard, all over his hand and his boxers.

_Well, that’s one load of laundry I’m doing on my own._

* * *

Alone in the bathroom, Simmons wasn’t faring much better. Still turned on thinking about the look in Fitz’s eyes but miffed that he hadn’t responded to her signals, she turned on the Jacuzzi jets and lowered herself into the water.

How could she get Fitz to notice her? Maybe she should just ask him if he felt like taking their relationship to the next level? She shook her head. No, that line was _way_ too cliché … and what if he said no? Fitz would feel so weirded out living with a roommate who had propositioned him _._ Maybe she should try wearing sexier clothing?

Simmons laughed, thinking about some of the scenes from the romance fiction she read – maybe she should wrap herself in a bathrobe, open the door, make a come hither gesture, and ask him if he’d like to join her for a bath. _Though actually_ … maybe she could convince Fitz that they were close enough that he should feel comfortable being in the bathroom while she bathed? Like, to brush his teeth or shave? _Mmmmmm,_ or maybe even shower?

Jemma glanced at the glass-enclosed shower stall at the foot of the Jacuzzi tub. She could imagine it … they would come home from their field assessments covered in mud, peel off their sweaty tactical gear, and both stumble into the bathroom. Fitz would be shy, offering to let her go first, and she would reassure him. _Don’t be ridiculous Fitz, you must be miserable in those dirty clothes._ She would hop in the bath and he in the shower, and Jemma would pretend not to be enjoying the show.

Jemma was getting a little slippery between her thighs just thinking about it. She slid one hand down between her legs and teased her opening. She was imagining Fitz standing in front of her in the shower stall, the spray turning his hair into golden ringlets and rivulets of water cascading down the slim planes of his torso.

She rubbed her clit with her thumb. She could see it now … the water would run over his abdominal muscles and follow the “V” of his hip bones down to his cock. It would be stiff and hard. Maybe he would be watching her through the glass, stroking himself gently.

Jemma was close. _Maybe …_ maybe Fitz would get out of the shower and join her in the tub. He would sit down across from her and pull her towards him. Then he would caress her face and tell her he loved her, before grabbing her by the waist and impaling her with his hard cock. Jemma pushed two fingers inside herself. She could feel it now – Fitz would hold onto her hips to bounce her up and down on his cock, stretching her wide. Jemma’s fingers started moving faster. He would thrust up into her, causing water to slosh over onto the floor. He would grab her butt cheeks and spread them wide, tilting her into him. Jemma would scream, _Fitz! Fitz! “_ Fitz!” And then she came.

Sated, Simmons leaned back in the tub. _Well, that was something else._

And then another thought occurred: _did that cross a line?_ Man, she was in trouble.


	4. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma makes a plan.

When Fitz awoke the next morning, his boxers were distinctly uncomfortable. He should have remembered to change instead of just falling asleep after last night’s … ahem … activities. Thinking back, he reflected on how sensual and realistic it had felt. He could have sworn he had actually heard Simmons screaming his name as he had pictured going down on her. Clearly, spending so much time around Simmons was doing wonders for his imagination.

Anyways, it was time to clean himself up before facing Simmons in the morning. Hopping out of bed, he headed to the bathroom for a long, cold, shower.

 

* * *

 

Lying in bed, Simmons heard the shower turn on. She blushed as she remembered her fantasies from the evening before. The orgasm had been fantastic, but it wasn’t like her to be quite so … specific … in her sexual imaginings. When pleasuring herself, she usually just pictured someone generic: a man with a slim build, a soft smile, and dextrous fingers. This was the first time she had ever imagined facial features or fantasized about a person from real life.

She had the hots for her best friend; that part was obvious. The question was: what should she do about it?

The status quo clearly couldn’t continue forever. She might self-combust from the sexual frustration. Plus, a year from now did she really want to be the creepy roommate, hoping to catch glimpses of Fitz as he got out of the shower and spending every night masturbating to images of him? No. She needed a plan. Things needed to either move forward or backward. Either she needed to build up the confidence to tell Fitz how she felt and ask him to attempt a relationship with her; or she needed to find some distance from Fitz ( _she’d probably have to move out_ , she winced) so that she could lick her wounds and heal her heart until she was ready to return to a purely platonic relationship.

Neither option was particularly enticing. The former terrified her ( _What if he says no? What if he finds it weird? What if the awkwardness ruins our friendship and our careers?_ ) and the latter felt like giving up before she had even begun. 

_I need more evidence,_ she realised. She was a scientist, after all _._ While their increased physical intimacy in public and that look from last night were both encouraging signs, Fitz still seemed extremely uncomfortable every time someone suggested that they might be a couple. She needed to determine whether or not Fitz thought of her as more than a friend. Once she had collected enough data points, she could figure out which hypothesis was correct, form a conclusion, and choose the course of action that was best supported by the evidence.

Invigorated by her new goal, Simmons tossed back the covers and got out of bed. Time to put her experiment into action.


	5. Data Collection, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma tries to move things forward, Fitz is oblivious.

Simmons put a bit more effort than usual into her appearance that day. She curled her hair, applied some mascara and pink lip gloss, and put on her favourite floral sundress. She and Fitz were supposed to go shopping for a television that morning; and she couldn’t wait to immediately start collecting data for her experiment, as well as pick up some supplies for the later stages.

* * *

Jemma shivered as she walked into the air-conditioned interior of the electronics store. Fitz immediately put his arm around her, rubbing his warm hands against her chilled skin.

“ _Mmmmm_ , that feels nice,” she smiled up at him. Simmons’ stomach did a little flip as Fitz held her gaze, a slight question in his blue eyes. Her gaze flicked down to his lips as she tilted her head and leaned in …

“Can I help you guys?” Fitz groaned inwardly as the store clerk approached them. He could’ve sworn that he and Simmons had just had a moment there. A few more seconds and he could have … he shook the thought from his head. His over-active hormones were clearly playing tricks on him. No matter how pink and luscious Jemma’s lips looked today, or how pretty she was in her dress, they were just friends. He shouldn’t be imagining things that weren’t there.

Fitz explained to the clerk that they were looking for a television, and followed him to the display area. Fitz glanced down, surprised as Simmons grabbed his hand – they didn’t normally hold hands unless Simmons was particularly excited about something or wanted to get his attention – but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. Squeezing her hand back and smiling at her, he led the way past aisles of digital camcorders and DVDs.

Fifteen minutes later, Simmons found herself scanning the shelves absentmindedly as Fitz and the clerk had yet another animated debate about the relative merits of OLED versus LCD displays – or was it curved versus flat screen? HD versus 4k? She couldn’t remember. It wasn’t as if they were buying a holotable or anything.

She tugged on Fitz’s hand to get his attention. “Is it okay if I browse the mall a little bit? It seems like you have this well under control.” When Fitz nodded his assent, she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Fitz. Meet you at the food court in an hour?”

Dazed, Fitz watched Simmons’ retreating form as she walked down the aisle. Had she meant to brush the corner of his mouth when she pulled away? And did she realise how nice her hips looked in that dress?

“She’s cute,” the clerk commented. Fitz shot him a sharp look. “I mean, you’re cute together,” he corrected. “You’re a lucky guy, man.”

Sneaking once last glance at Simmons as she exited the store, Fitz replied, “Thanks, yeah. Yeah, I am.”

* * *

Fitz glanced up from his slice of pizza as Simmons dropped a pile of shopping bags onto the table beside him.

“You’ve been busy.”

“Ugh, I know. I’m exhausted. Did you get me anything?” Fitz nodded towards the spinach salad and smoothie on the tray across from him.

Simmons flopped into the seat, taking a sip of the smoothie. “Strawberry banana! Awww, Fitz, you remembered my favourite.” She reached across the table and squeezed his free hand. “You’re the best.”

Fitz smiled. “It’s the one you always ordered from the juice bar at the Academy. And you’re welcome. So, find anything good?” he asked as Simmons dug into her salad.

“A few things, yeah.”

Fitz glanced over the bags beside him. Most of them seemed awfully … pink. He squinted to read the lettering on the side. _Victoria’s Secret._

Fitz blushed scarlet as his mind flashed through images of Jemma wearing the outfits from the ads outside the store. _Jemma in a white babydoll nightie … Jemma in a red lace teddy … Jemma in nothing but a bra and thong_. He hurriedly swallowed a mouthful of pizza and averted his eyes as his body started to take definite interest. He tried desperately to think about anything else. “Oh, uh, that’s great.”

Simmons followed Fitz’s eyes to her purchases and cheered inwardly when she saw his flustered reaction. It was definitely a positive sign that he was blushing at the idea of her in lingerie.

“Just needed to pick up some new pyjamas. My old ones were getting a little worn.” It was _mostly_ true.

Fitz felt simultaneously disappointed and relieved. On the one hand, the torturous mental slideshow of Jemma in lingerie had been replaced by the familiar and comforting image of Simmons in flannel pyjama pants and oversized t-shirts. On the other hand, he was no longer in immediate danger of having a raging erection in the middle of the mall’s food court. _Phew, that was a close call._

* * *

Simmons grinned as she relaxed on her bed. Fitz and the delivery guy were outside setting up their new television, so she had a few moments to unwind.

Overall, her first day of data collection had been a resounding success. She had tried to ramp up their physical affection to a more couple-y level, and Fitz had responded well. He happily held her hand as they walked through the mall and when they had taken a stroll through the park that afternoon. He seemed comfortable when she had hugged his arm against her chest, claiming that she wanted to steal his warmth, and even slipped an arm around her shoulders as they were walking.

But the best part of the day had been when they had parked themselves on a bench overlooking the river’s edge, watching the geese scavenging for food and the tourists in paddleboats. Jemma rested her body flush against Fitz’s side, crossing her legs towards him and wrapping both arms around his middle. Fitz had drawn warm circles against the bare skin of her upper back as she rested her head against his shoulder. Their whispered commentary covered the gamut from a mother goose and her goslings that had caused a traffic jam on the bike path to the tourists who couldn’t figure out that their boat had a rudder and kept crashing into the riverbank.

Jemma’s lips brushed the stubble on Fitz’s temple as she whispered in his ear. She gazed up at him in the dappled afternoon light. _So handsome … so pasty._ Her eyes had traced his brow, his nose, his jawline … his mouth. And she had wished that her lips were free to do the same.

Simmons sighed in her bed. Clearly, Fitz was comfortable with engaging in relationship-level intimacy in public, so that was good start. The last part was to figure out whether or not he was physically attracted to her.

* * *

Fitz absentmindedly clicked through the television’s setup screen as he thought over his day. It had taken them all of two minutes to hook up the cables correctly, and Fitz had dismissed the delivery guy at that point, confident that as a leading electronics engineer he could handle the rest on his own.

Fitz was proud of how he had handled himself during the day. After the near miss at the food court, he had been particularly careful to remain in neutral friend territory for the rest of the afternoon, and had mostly succeeded. Sure, he had been semi-aroused most of the time – but who wouldn’t be, in such close proximity to Jemma, the scent of lavender and vanilla enveloping him? And there had been a few momentary lapses, like when he had noticed how round and firm her breasts felt as she hugged his arm against her chest; or how nicely toned her thighs looked as she crossed her legs on the bench. But the important thing was that he hadn’t tried to come onto her or done anything to make her uncomfortable.

It had struck Fitz as he gazed at Jemma that afternoon on the bench, the sun shining a golden halo through the waves of her hair, that he would do anything for her. Whatever she needed, he would be. If she needed a best friend to snuggle and explore the city with, that’s who he would be.

What he wouldn’t do was anything that would jeopardize her trust in him, like coming on to her or trying to take advantage of that trust to fulfil his own desires.

True, there were moments when it almost felt like Simmons wanted him, too; like when she leaned into him that morning at the store, tilting her head as if for a kiss. Or when she had playfully smacked him for mocking the tourists in their paddleboat, laughing and extending her top leg across his lap, and for a second it had almost seemed like she was about to straddle him.

But that was all in his over-active imagination. Just a projection of his hormone-fuelled fantasies. The best thing he could do was to keep his hormones under control until this crush passed, or he learned how to ignore it. His feelings for Simmons would stay safely in the privacy of his own bed (or the shower), and he would do everything he could to make sure that she never caught on to his feelings. He was going to be the best platonic male best friend that a girl could ask for, that’s what.

With that resolution in mind, he found a re-run of Planet Earth on the Discovery Channel and went to the kitchen to make them some popcorn.


	6. Data Collection, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz is in denial, Jemma gets frustrated, they both take care of it in their own way ...

Simmons took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing…_ She opened her bedroom door and stepped out into the living room.

Fitz was on the couch in a t-shirt and sweats, a giant bowl of popcorn in his lap. “Simmons, you won’t believe this. I found re-runs of …”

He glanced up at Simmons and his mouth went dry. She was wearing nothing but a lacy pink camisole and tiny matching shorts. The fabric clung to her curves, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her auburn waves were tousled, falling lightly over her shoulders and just brushing the curves of her breasts. She looked like sex personified.

Simmons smiled hesitantly. Fitz appeared to be in shock – his mouth was hanging open, bits of popcorn falling back into the bowl, and he was staring at her dumbstruck. _That’s a good sign, right?_ But he wasn’t saying anything. _What does that mean? Is the outfit too much?_  

To Fitz, the outfit was a gift from the heavens. He couldn’t help himself from drinking in the sight. He could see almost all of her perfect, milky white breasts, which were just barely covered by two small triangles of fabric that met well below her cleavage. Bands of creamy lace traced the outline, just hinting at the barest glimpses of the smooth mounds underneath. The pink fabric moulded to her body, clinging to her waist. The shorts folded into the creases of her thighs, forming a delectable “V” leading down to … 

“Fitz?” Simmons felt simultaneously exposed and powerful as Fitz’s blue eyes raked down her body. She was breathing heavily as he dragged his eyes up to meet hers.

Fitz forced himself to meet her eyes. _So much for the perfect platonic male best friend._ He was going to be fantasizing about this image until his dying day.

Clearing his throat, he managed to croak out, “New pyjamas?”

Simmons smiled. _God, she looks like an angel when she smiles._ “Yeah, do you like them?” She did a little twirl. 

Fitz gulped as the hem of her shorts fluttered against her ass as she spun. The seam rode up into her crack, exposing the curve of her cheeks. Fitz could see everything, and his penis was already rock hard. Thank god he was holding the popcorn bowl over his lap.

“You look …” _Amazing. Gorgeous. Sexy. Fuckable._ “good,” he managed.

“Thanks!” Simmons bounced over to the couch. Fitz scrambled to grab a blanket to cover himself as she grabbed the popcorn bowl out of his hands. “What are we watching?”

“Planet Earth. Mountains episode.”

“Amazing.” Simmons tossed a handful of popcorn into her mouth and settled in to watch.

Fitz could not focus on the episode at all. Simmons had initially nestled into his side, which was a normal enough position for them while watching television. Unfortunately, in his current state the press of her toned thighs against him and his, frankly, sensational view down the front of her top had him about three seconds away from leaking pre-cum through his shorts. He tried to subtly move out from under her, gently transferring her weight to the cushions as he scooted to the opposite side of the couch.

Simmons then extended her legs towards him under the blanket, rubbing her cold feet against his inner thighs. That also wasn’t helping his … personal … situation in the least, so Fitz grabbed her feet and rubbed them briskly between his hands before placing them a safe distance away. When the episode ended, he made his excuses and all but ran for the relative privacy of his bedroom.

He waited until he heard Simmons go into her bedroom and her door close before he pushed down his sweatpants and boxers, his cock springing free. Waiting a few more minutes and not hearing any noises from her room, he figured that she had gone to bed. Taking himself in hand, he began pumping slowly. He knew exactly what image he would be fantasizing about tonight.

* * *

Jemma was disappointed. When Fitz had looked her up and down like that, she had felt confident that tonight would be the night they took the next step in their relationship. All the signs pointed to Fitz being physically comfortable with her in public, so she figured that with her new outfit and some snuggling, they would soon be at an increased level of physical intimacy in private. But he had moved away, keeping a safe distance between them all night. He had barely responded to any of her comments on the episode they were watching, and hadn’t even met her eyes before rushing off to his room.

Frustrated, Jemma pulled her hands out of her shorts. _Ugh_ , that man! Fitz was even interfering with her ability to get herself off in the privacy of her own room. She wasn’t even wet. Every time she tried to imagine him pushing her down on the couch or peeling off her panties, her mind super-imposed his absent stare as he avoided her gaze or his cold reaction when she tried to press herself against him.

Throwing off the covers in frustration, she tried to be reasonable. It wasn’t Fitz’s fault that she had made him the object of her sexual fantasies. The poor boy probably just wanted to watch Planet Earth in peace. Deciding that she needed to cool herself down, she got out of bed, silently opened her door, and tip-toed to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. 

Thinking that she heard a noise, Jemma paused behind the screen that separated Fitz’s room. Yes, there it was again. It sounded like … rustling sheets, something wet, something pumping back and forth quickly.

 _Wait … was he … wanking???_ Simmons’ heart was racing. Fitz let out a soft moan. _He was._ All of the sudden Jemma was having no trouble getting wet. 

She should leave. She shouldn’t be intruding on Fitz’s privacy like this. He would be so mortified if he found out. 

But she couldn’t. Instead, she backed herself into the kitchen, silently slid up onto one of the counters, and spread her legs. Her hand snuck back down her shorts as she played with herself.

Fitz groaned softly, “Your ass tastes so good.” _Oh, my!_ Now she was imagining herself face down on his bed as he ate her out. She was close. 

She could hear his hand speeding up. Now she was imagining herself riding him, bouncing up and down on his cock as he grabbed her ass, thrusting himself inside of her. Her fingers plunged frantically in and out of her pussy, thumb massaging her clit.

 _You could do it,_ said a naughty voice inside her head. _You could walk around that screen, pull down your shorts, and impale yourself on that hard cock. He’s right there._ He was so close … she was so close …

All of the sudden, Fitz let out a strangled cry and the sound of his hand stopped. _He’s coming_. Jemma imagined his thick, white cum filling her pussy … she was right on the edge.

Then she heard it – a quiet yell in his Scottish lilt – “Jemma!”And just like that, she came. Wave after wave of white hot pleasure racked her body. She covered her mouth with her left hand to stifle her moans. Her hips rocked back and forth, trying to milk every last ounce of pleasure from her fingers as her head rolled back against the cabinets, tossing from side to side. Her breath rushed out of her in heaving pants as she collapsed against the counter.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing fic, so constructive comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! (I am a long-time Fitzsimmons shipper and fanfic reader, but this is my first time trying to write one.)


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